


Holy

by thatsmygvn (cougarlips)



Series: Holy [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: ((mostly)), ((tara and heath wait until they get back to ASZ before going on their 2 week run)), Canon Compliant, Daryl-Centric, M/M, POV Third Person, post 6x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6284890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cougarlips/pseuds/thatsmygvn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was no celebratory party when they returned to Alexandria. No comforting gathering where everyone talked together over food and drink, music and entertainment. Everyone came back and greeted their loved ones left behind, and then they holed themselves up in their homes.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holy

Maggie and Carol, safe. Glenn, safe. Rick and Michonne, safe. Aaron, Tara, Gabriel, and Heath, safe. Abraham, Sasha, Rosita, safe. Andy and Jesus, safe.

Daryl made it a habit to do headcounts after runs and missions. He found it easier to function when he could visibly see his people, breathing and walking of their own accord, smiling and laughing as they reunited once more. True, after the ordeal inside the compound, after what happened to Maggie and Carol, he couldn’t exactly say anyone was actually smiling or laughing, but he could at least confirm everyone was safe and that the trek back to base would be with full numbers.

Rick took point with Michonne, arms raised with his machete gripped tightly. The two spoke quietly to one another, their faces taut with furrowed brows and grimaces. Daryl watched the rear, rifle drawn and poised as he continued overseeing his group.

Behind Rick and Michonne, Glenn gave in to his emotions and allowed the tears -- born of shock, frustration, and terror -- to stream out of his swollen, red eyes. In one hand he grasped his knife, while his other hand gripped Maggie’s tightly. Others attempted to wear poker faces, their faces stony and cold, but they cracked around the edges and gave way to their stifled fear.

Too much went down. Too much happened in the less-than-24-hours since they had left Hilltop, since they had left Alexandria. Abraham and Sasha seemed the only ones left with any fire left in them, aside from Rick and Michonne.

Even the newcomers sagged with the weight of the dead on their shoulders. Andy’s eyes were glued open, his finger twitching above the trigger of his gun as he walked forward, one foot falling in front of the other, his jaw tight.

Jesus hung back, his eyes scoping their surroundings with his hands pocketed. Though the memory of the Sorghum truck lingered in the back of his mind, Daryl couldn’t deny the man wasn’t a beneficial addition to their group, especially tonight as he rescued nearly half of their numbers. Daryl watched as Jesus steadily lagged behind the rest of their people before joining him at the end of the line.

“Are you okay?” Jesus asked, carefully enunciating his quiet murmur, a line creasing between his eyes.

Daryl rolled his shoulders. “Been through worse,” he replied.

Jesus looked at Daryl and frowned. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he pushed, hoping that he would drop the subject. Carol eyed him for a moment before Jesus nodded.

“I just wanted to let you know that you have an extra pair of eyes if you need them,” Jesus commented.

Daryl grunted in response, nodding shortly.

They had less than a few miles left. He could deal with this trenchcoated man who was determined to help protect the lives of his exhausted people.

* * *

There was no celebratory party when they returned to Alexandria. No comforting gathering where everyone talked together over food and drink, music and entertainment. Everyone came back and greeted their loved ones left behind, and then they holed themselves up in their homes.

Daryl watched as Michonne and Rick embraced Carl and Judith; as Enid approached Maggie and Glenn with caution before she launched herself at them, worry evident in her young face; as Tobin greeted Carol and embraced her without a word. Eugene bounced back and forth between Abraham and Rosita, even _his_ eyes drooping with exhaustion.

It only took fifteen minutes for the streets to clear, and Daryl preferred this time more than any other to pace and patrol, still fighting the lingering horror that threatened to break his composure. Trembling fingers reached into his pocket to pull out a battered pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Before he could light it, however, a figure rustled in the darkness of the night in front of him. Narrowing his eyes and pocketing his stash, he raised the knife in his free hand and followed the figure.

Daryl quickly recognised it wasn’t a walker that roamed the area -- it padded too lightly against the concrete and left no sound as it made its way further into the community -- but his mind was not at ease with the idea that a human was creeping around. Watching as the figure rounded a corner that had only one exit, Daryl made his own way toward the other end, knife still raised and hackles on edge.

From the dark alley, Daryl caught a short glimpse of beard and piercing blue eyes before grabbing the figure and throwing it against the concrete barricade. With one arm bracing its neck and the other holding a knife at the base of its throat, Daryl peered closely into the eyes of, who turned out to be, Jesus.

Hands lifted innocently, Jesus raised coarse eyebrows and stared into Daryl’s eyes. “We’re on the same side,” he muttered.

“Why’re you roamin’?” Daryl interrupted, though his nerves dulled as Jesus pierced him with his bright eyes.

Jesus’s lip tightened in frustration before he took a deep breath and relaxed his features. “I could ask you the same questions,” he said, tone cool on the surface. “We’ve been through enough shit today -- your _best friend_ has been through enough, so why are you out here when you could be in there with her?”

Daryl dropped his arms and Jesus visibly fell several inches from where Daryl had him pinned against the wall. With narrowed eyes, Daryl replied, “Someone ought to keep watch.”

Raising his hand to point fingers at the watchtowers, Jesus motioned towards the Alexandrians who stood with their guns at the ready. “You _have_ people keeping watch. Or do you not trust them?” he questioned.

Jesus eyed Daryl seriously, staring up at him without a hint of amusement on his tanned face. “What’s keeping you up at night, Daryl?” he asked, softly this time. He moved to face the other man, to look him in the eyes every time Daryl moved away. “You can’t expect it to get any easier if you don’t --”

“Don’t _what_?” Daryl retaliated, now bristling with irritation. “If I don’t _talk_ about it? Don’t _cry_ over it? I got this far just fine.”

“And with that attitude, this is as far as you’re going to get,” Jesus finished, meeting Daryl’s gaze evenly now. “Turning off your emotions won’t help matters any. All it’ll do is turn you into a ticking time bomb.”

Sneering at the shorter man, Daryl turned around and began walking away. He wasn’t expecting the other man to call out after him: “Your hands have been shaking ever since you pinned me down, Daryl. Hell, they’ve been shaking since we left the compound with Maggie and Carol. You can’t keep bottling all this in.”

“You’ve known me for a _day_ , man,” Daryl spat, spinning around to face Jesus. “Less than. You got _no_ right telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked gently.

Daryl turned on his heel and walked away from the other man, cursing low under his breath as he fumbled once more in his pocket for his cigarette and lighter, damning Jesus because he was right, of course, and Daryl knew it.

Once he made it to Aaron’s front porch, he realized with a bitter taste in his mouth that Jesus never answered his question.

**Author's Note:**

> i have this weird irrational fear when it comes to posting fanfics for fandoms that aren't my main, but i've been branching out and trying to work past that. a super sweet anon on tumblr requested that i write something after i mentioned that i'd love the idea of writing for jesus/daryl if i could only get into the mindset of the characters. i hope i've done them (mostly daryl) justice. :)
> 
> title is from the song "Holy" by PVRIS.
> 
> i have a TWD blog on tumblr now! go follow @[thatsmygvn](http://thatsmygvn.tumblr.com/) if you're interested :)


End file.
